


I need that drink!

by dianathehorrible



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Awkwardness, But no one is pining over anyone, Especially with someone as hot as Nyssa, F/F, Laurel is happy to move on, Past Laurel/Oliver, Past Nyssa/Sara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6136932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianathehorrible/pseuds/dianathehorrible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t imagine your day being more difficult that mine,” she said leaning closer to Laurel to whisper in her ear “I used to date the bride.”</p>
<p>“I win, then,” Laurel said, feeling her heart race at the proximity of this stunning person. “I used to date the groom and I’m the bride’s sister.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I need that drink!

**Author's Note:**

> February - Meet Cute

“I am so sorry, dear,” the woman said to Laurel, for the hundredth time. Laurel tried to force a smile and show the woman (some older relative she had only seen a couple of time in her life, but who seemed to think she had the responsibility of comforting Laurel in what she called “a most trying time, dear”) that she was fine. Which she really would be if only people would stop looking at her with so much pity in their eyes. But apparently it was impossible not to pity her at the reception of Sara and Oliver’s wedding reception. 

“I’m fine. I’m happy for them,” Laurel said, reassuringly. But the old lady was not having any of that.

“You can try to lie to yourself, dear, but I can only imagine how hard this must be for you. To watch your younger sister get married before you! And to your ex-fiancee, no less. You must be suffering a great deal.”

“I’m managing”

The woman stepped closer to Laurel to hug her (for the third time) and Laurel had to actively keep herself from rolling her eyes once she was in the woman’s embrace again. She didn’t even remember the name of that woman and, judging from the way the old lady kept calling her ‘dear’ all the time, Laurel was willing to bet that the woman didn’t know Laurel’s name either.

“You just hang in there, dear,” the woman said, before finally (finally!) leaving Laurel, but not without first giving one last squeeze to Laurel’s hand.

And Laurel needed a drink.

She scoured the the room looking for any waiters carrying anything alcohol. She could always ask the bartender to prepare her a drink (something really strong and really fast, if her state of spirits was any indication) but by doing that she would run the risk of her father discovering her and giving her one of his speeches about how important it was for her to stay sober. Any other day she would listen to him, but that day…

So what she needed was a drink already available, that she could down in one gulp and hide from her dad. Luckily she found just what she was looking only a few steps away when she spotted a waiter carrying a tray with one last glass of champagne. Sure it was a little weaker than what she had in mind (she was thinking more along the lines of vodka) but it would have to do. 

However, as it tended to happen to Laurel, the universe seemed dead set in keeping her from catching any sort of break, as it was demonstrated when, just as Laurel was reaching her hand to take the glass, someone else did the same and snatched the drink before Laurel could.

Laurel turned to the person who so cruelly had taken Laurel’s only possible comfort in this horrible day, and found herself faced with the most striking woman she had ever seen in her entire life.

She had dark, silky hair that cascaded in front of her left shoulder in waves, making wonderful contrast to her flawless skin and the gorgeous form-fitting dark blue dress she was wearing. Her facial features were no less remarkable and Laurel allowed herself to briefly admire the luminous eyes and the mouth that seemed to be curved in amusement, even as her left eyebrow was arched, in silent inquiry.

Laurel realized a few moments too late that she had been staring and, in an effort to say something to make the situation less awkward, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind:

“I need that drink.”

This only appeared to make the woman more amused. She brought the glass (clasped firmly in her right hand) even closer to herself and started, perhaps unconsciously, to trace the rim of the glass with her left index finger. Laurel tried not to get distracted with the movement.

“And why is that?” the woman asked and Laurel did her best to not get lost in how pleasing the woman’s accent and voice were.

“Well,” Laurel started, and mentally congratulated herself for keeping her own voice steady rather that betraying her nerves. “I’m having a very, very difficult day.”

The woman smiled.

“I can’t imagine your day being more difficult that mine,” she said leaning closer to Laurel to whisper in her ear “I used to date the bride.”

“I win, then,” Laurel said, feeling her heart race at the proximity of this stunning person. “I used to date the groom and I’m the bride’s sister.”

This actually managed to startle a soft laugh from the woman, who extended the glass towards Laurel.

“I am defeated, then.”

Laurel started to raise her hand to take the offered glass when she thought better of it.

“You know what? You should keep it, I shouldn’t be drinking anyway. Thirty days sober,” Laurel said, before she could talk herself out of sharing this personal piece of information with a woman she didn’t even know. Speaking of which… “I’m Laurel, by the way.”

She extended her hand to nice who took it without hesitation. But instead of shaking it she brought Laurel’s hands to her lips and placed a soft kiss on it. Laurel felt herself blushing but, in a strange way, the action of kissing her hand looked incredibly natural for the other woman. What kind of person was she?

“Nyssa,” the woman said, right before she let Laurel’s hand go. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Laurel.”

Unable to face Nyssa another second without thinking of how she wanted to run her fingers though that silky hair, Laurel turned to the party again, just in time to catch a glimpse of Oliver and Sara dancing together.

“They look happy together,” Nyssa said and Laurel was pleased when she failed to detect any kind of bitterness in her voice. She was thinking of all the things she wanted to do with Nyssa at the moment and it would be truly terrible if Nyssa still had feelings for Sara.

“They really do,” Laurel said before turning to Nyssa again and smiling mischievously. “Want to get out of here?”

Nyssa smiled back and took one last sip of the champagne before putting the glass on a nearby table and taking one of Laurel’s hands.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I finished in time! I've been so busy that I thought I'd have to drop out of this month's challenge. So glad I could do this! Hope you guys enjoyed it!


End file.
